Family

Finding Courage in the face of Adversity

Love and courage kept me standing…

I have written many very personal and sometimes distressing true tales. Through my eyes, the one you are about to read is the worst. During this event, I experienced the most terrifying moment of my life so far, and it was love and courage that kept me standing.

Content Warning— Traumatic and Emotional event discussed

I will take you back to me when my children were nine and eleven. This period was a strange part of my life, as I’d recently left their dad and had a new partner, Keith. He proved to be a good father figure, so I am grateful on that score, but our compatibility was low, and the relationship ended about six years later.

At this point we were at the start of our relationship and in love.

On this particular March day we were a happy looking family unit off to the bowling alley for my birthday treat. The quickest route happened to take in one of the busiest motorways in the southeast of England, during rush hour.

I was in the passenger seat with my eldest daughter — I will call her Darling — sitting behind me and my other, Mona, next to her.

In front of us — a massive foreign truck.

Keith, a careful driver, waited for the right moment before he indicated and steered into the middle lane, ready to overtake.

I remember glancing round at my girls. Mona, all curls, rosy cheeks and smiles, was dozing and behind me Darling was busy tapping away on her newly acquired mobile phone. Turning, eyes ahead, I experienced a moment of dreadful foreboding.

And then it happened.

Looking to my left, I momentarily thought — that lorry is awfully close. Indeed, it was. The driver was heading into the same lane as us! We hadn’t quite finished overtaking, so when the force of the truck rammed into the car, it smashed the back passenger door next to Darling. This was all happening too quickly to say a word. Keith was forcefully trying to keep the car moving in a straight line to avoid hitting others in the fast lane.

Somehow the car twisted and the truck was now pushing us, passenger side on, along the motorway. The sight before my eyes was way beyond what my brain could endure, and I passed out. Swooning I suppose. Not a courageous reaction, but an involuntary one. The next bit was told to me after the event.

The lorry finally realising what was going on and braked — hard. Which allowed us to go shooting down the verge without hitting any cars on the way. Apparently, our vehicle turned over a few times before eventually coming to a standstill with its roof on the grass bank. We were upside down. The motorway cameras caught all the action. Keith was completely vindicated.

Mona — I looked over at Darling and had to laugh as we were upside down, held in by our seat-belts and her really, really long hair was hanging the wrong way. It was like we were on a fairground ride.

Keith — When the car finally halted I looked over at May and felt for the pulse in her neck. Alive, but obviously not conscious. I opened all the windows and climbed out. Knowing she would want me to get the girls to safety first I undid their belts and one at a time pulled them out of the car via the windows. Leaving them further along on the bank — I then came back for May and laid her motionless on the grass beside the girls.

Darling — I couldn’t quite understand why Mum wasn’t talking or moving. I thought she was dead…

I came round just as the emergency services arrived. They were incredible. At that time I lived in a village with its own fire station and these guys were first at the scene. My kids had been to tea with their kids and vice-versa.

The paramedics talked to us all and made a rough assessment regarding our physical and mental condition. We were taken in pairs to the hospital. Darling and I were deemed injured in some way. Keith had a minor knee problem and Mona had slight whiplash. The lorry hit the vehicle along the passenger doors, so it was understandable why Darling and I needed more treatment.

My left shoulder was injured and even though I’d been unconscious it seemed I hadn’t received a bang on the head. But Darling had. Soon after we arrived at the hospital, she began to talk and act as if she was taking drugs. Her speech was babbled and confused. We could tell she was also having difficulty seeing properly, so the consultant ordered an emergency MRI head scan.

I sat waiting, already having signed myself off from receiving any more treatment, so I could be with her.

It wasn’t long before the doctor who had assessed the MRI scan came over to me. Her face was full of angst. The first thing she said was,

“Mrs More. I’m afraid it is not good news.”

Not good news. It must be bad news then…

My eyes started to fog over. I thought I was about to pass out again. Felt sick. I wanted to die. Me. Not her.

Looking back at this, the worst moment of my life, I think perhaps the Doctor should have chosen her words more carefully. But I can’t fault her actions. Darling had a bleed on the brain which was causing pressure in different areas. A subdural haemorrhage. The condition was critical, so the first available ambulance immediately took us directly to the specialist ward at St Thomas’s hospital in London.

Upon arrival, Darling was taken to the intensive care unit and monitored.

It was at this point I had to muster courage from deep within. The type that is installed as part of your being the moment you first hold your newborn. Waiting until required. I had never needed it more, and thankfully this strength helped me get through the next few weeks, as I reminded myself, this was not about me — it was about precious Darling.

The following day involved a second scan before a decision could be made regrading an operation. Thank God the bleeding hadn’t increased, which meant there was a possibility it may begin to disperse.

The operation was put on hold.

We were moved to a children’s ward. I stayed in the hospital with her for a week while they monitored her signs for any change. It appeared the bleeding had ceased. Now we had a new problem. She had always been slender, but because of nausea, her weight had plummeted. The hospital food was not wonderful, so after a discussion with the staff, they agreed to let me take her home before she lost any more weight.

She slept in with me and I gave her all her favourite meals.

Darling recovered well. For a time, she didn’t want to go out at all, and we both suffered from the idea that it had been our time — meaning we thought we’d cheated death in some way, and it would come for us in the near future. Not rational, but unsurprising considering what we had been through.

We all received counselling.

Now she’s a very intelligent young woman. One who struggles with the concept of life. She suffers with anxiety and doesn’t like to be involved in stressful situations. But she is alive and the kind of person who feels deeply and loves hard.

This story belongs to Darling, not me, but it feels like mine.

We were lucky that day.

• The car was a diesel Volvo. Very robust, and it is only petrol cars that burst into flames.
• The motorway hard shoulder/verge didn’t have any barriers on that stretch. Crash mats may have caused us further complications.
• Keith kept his head when needed and miraculously didn’t hit any other cars.

I never did receive treatment for my shoulder, so when on occasions I feel a twinge of pain it is a reminder that I am so lucky to have my Darling daughter alive and well.

We all learned that day LIFE IS FOR LIVING…

PS. Darling recently landed her dream job. Maybe one would call this karma.

This was written for the current KTHT prompt.

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